


Here Come the Waves

by BasilHellward



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen or Pre-Slash, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Underage Drinking, Wordcount: 500-1.000, chris is an angry angry guy, until he's just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7909258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasilHellward/pseuds/BasilHellward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after S2 E01 'Monster' – Nick gets Chris drunk in an attempt to make him confront his grief over his mother's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Come the Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, so please point out any spelling/grammar mistakes! Constructive criticism is also welcome :)  
> Title's a lyric from the Velvet Underground song 'The Ocean'.

_Knock. Knock._

"Go away," Chris shouts through the door.

"You're not even gonna ask who it is first?"

Nick.

Glad it isn't Travis or Madison, Chris gets up and opens the door, but he doesn't let Nick in. Nick greets him with a stupid wave and an equally stupid grin on his face. Chris squints at him.

"What do you want?"

"A drinking buddy," Nick says, holding up a bottle of scotch. Chris can smell alcohol on his breath and he'd swayed on his feet slightly when Chris opened the door.

"You're already drunk."

"Tipsy," Nick corrects.

Chris let's out a short, irritated sigh. "Look, I just want to be alone, and I-I don't— I mean, I've never ...had alcohol before."

"First time for everything," Nick shrugs. "C'mon, let me in, you look like you could use a drink."

"Fine," Chris says, standing out of the way to let Nick into his room. "Give me that."

Chris takes the bottle from Nick and sits back down on his bed. Nick joins him. He glances at the label before unscrewing the cap and taking three long gulps.

It burns. Chris tries to be cool about the fact that his throat feels like it's on fire because he doesn't want to seem like a lightweight — even though he is — but he only manages to stifle his coughing for a few seconds. Nick laughs and shakes his head. 

"There, there," he says, patting Chris' back as he continues to cough. 

"That tastes disgusting," Chris manages to choke out.

"Eh, you get used to it."

Once Chris calms down, Nick takes the bottle back from him and takes a drink. The hand he has resting between Chris' shoulder-blades starts to creep up his neck. Chris tolerates this until Nick starts to stroke his hair, brushing it behind his ear. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he snaps, knocking Nick's arm away with his own. 

"You're cute when you're mad, you know," Nick says with a smirk.

Chris doesn't know how to respond to that, so instead he says nothing, just scowls and snatches the whiskey from Nick's hand and takes another long drink.

The second drink still burns his throat on the way down, but this time he doesn't cough. His chest feels warm and he's starting to feel slightly lightheaded, but it's not unpleasant. 

"Look at you," Nick grins, "you're a regular alky."

"You're one to talk," Chris mumbles under his breath. 

"Hm?"

"What are you doing here?" Chris asks with an exasperated sigh instead of repeating himself. 

"Um, drinking?" Nick says infuriatingly. Chris feels his eye twitch and he pauses to take a deep breath before he says, "That's not what I meant." 

"Then what _did_ you mean?" Nick asks.

Chris shrugs. "You never bothered with me until today," he mumbles, picking at the label on the bottle, "you always ignored me before and now you want to hang out, so ...what changed?"

"I dunno," Nick says. "You just looked like you could use some comfort, y'know? Someone to talk to. And I know what it's like to lose a parent, so—"

"Get out," Chris growls. 

Nick blinks. "What?"

"Get _out!_ "

"No," Nick says calmly. "I'm not leaving. You need to deal with it, Chris, you can't just pretend like it didn't happen. Trust me." There's a self-depreciating smile on his face as he adds, "How d'you think I ended up a junkie?"

Chris doesn't say anything to that, just looks away and takes another drink.

"My dad died in a car accident," Nick says quietly after a moment. "They say he didn't suffer. I still miss him, obviously, but it does get easier." 

"My dad shot my mom," Chris says, his voice breaking. "He shot my mom in the head."

Of course, Nick already knows — he was there too — but Chris needs him to understand how traumatic it was. How he can't even look at Travis anymore. How his heart breaks every time he does. 

Tears start to well up in his eyes and before he can think twice about what he's doing, Chris has his face buried in Nick's chest as he cries and cries. Nick wraps an arm around Chris and pulls him closer, then begins to stroke his hair again. This time, Chris lets him. 

"She's _dead_ ," Chris repeats over and over and all Nick can do is hug him tighter and whisper, "I know."

Chris feels some of the anger drain out of him as he sobs, along with his energy. He's exhausted by the time he gets a hold of himself.

"Are you like, gonna be alright? Do you want me to stay?" Nick asks when Chris eventually pulls away. 

"You— you wouldn't mind?"

Chris is pretty drunk by now. Drunk enough that he could blame it on the scotch if Nick says—

"Of course not. Anything I can do to help."

Chris looks up then, a weak smile on his tear-reddened face as he says, "Thanks."

Nick smiles back, cups Chris' cheek, and wipes his tears away with his thumb.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
